My Beloved Pet
by MapleVodkaNTomatoes
Summary: Poor Prussia lived an odd and frantic life under Russia's Soviet rule, induced to his maniacal ways, almost to the brink of...loving him? WARNING: Yaoi, boyxboy, RusPrus, mentions of USUK and past PrUK. Rated T for the romance and mention of sex.
1. Chapter One

**My Beloved Pet**

_(A RusPrus FanFiction)_

[**WARNING:** Yaoi & BoyxBoy action involved; slight USUK, major RusPrus, slight mention of past PrUK]

He entered into the city hall for the meeting with a chain dragging behind him. He found the room on the left and poked his head through the doorway with the usual smile on his face. He spotted America sitting at the table on the far side of the room alone. He rested his chin on his right hand, tracing a circle on the smooth, wooden surface with his left index finger, probably bored out of his mind.

"Hello!" he exclaimed to the young blonde, who's head shot up at the elder nation's accented voice.

"Oh," he said half-heartedly. "Hey, Ivan." Russia fully entered the room and held the chain in his hands behind his back.

"I'm so glad you're here, Alfred. I have something to show you."

"What? No way!" America screamed, springing from his seat and blowing up in Russia's face. "Is it a cool new toy? One of those new remote-controlled helicopters or something?!"

"Heт," he answered. "Is much better!" He showed America the chain in his hands. "I got a new puppy." He tugged on the chain and an odd-shaped creature stumbled through the door.

America's large, giddy smile disappeared as soon as the shape was made clear to him. "Ivan," he started, "that's not a dog..." He saw that the creature had white hair and underneath a shaggy mat of bangs were glowering red eyes. "Is that...Gilbert?" The albino looked up at his name being mentioned. There was a cloth tied around his head and across his mouth so he wouldn't talk. The chain in Russia's hands lead to an iron collar wrapped around his neck real snug.

"Hmn?" Russia hummed as he looked down at his feet where his scarlet-eyed friend crouched next to him. "Что? When did he get here?" Without hesitation, Russia reached down and pulled hard on a strand of Prussia's snowy hair. Prussia made a screeching sound, but it was muffled by the white cloth removing his ability to talk.

"Uh...Ivan?" America spoke up. "Why do you have Gilbert on a chain?" Prussia grumbled a one-worded question in agreement.

"Well, he was being a bad boy. So I decided he needed punishment," Russia replied with a smile. Altogether, it wasn't so pleasant as the evil, violet aura cascaded down upon him slowly.

"That doesn't mean you should drag him around with you everywhere you go on a chain as if he were your own _pet!_" America spat at him, making Prussia flinch, but Russia stared back at America with no trace of a blink, his expression suddenly serious.

"But when a dog is being naughty, you must scold it," Russia replied with another tug on the hair of his albino pet, who growled at him again.

"He's not a dog!" America exclaimed. "He's not an animal! He's a human being like me and you and...well, like me!"

"I know-."

"Then why treat him like a stray? Might as well take him to the animal shelter where they'll keep him locked in a cage the rest of his life!"

"Actually," Russia started to reply in a slow, deep voice, "I was going to do just that." Prussia looked up and a muffled, high-pitched squeal came from his throat. "But instead of taking him to the shelter, I was going to lock him in my basement." Russia tugged on the chain as he strode farther into the meeting room and sat down in his usual chair. Prussia followed helplessly along like a lost puppy; the sad look he gave really made him sell it.

"You are sick," America admitted, "and inhumane. Is this what your people do in your country? Kidnap others and lock them in a cage in your basement?"

"In a cage?" Russia repeated. "We don't have that service in Russia. All they get is a small room with concrete walls and no windows, with little food and water...but I bring _special_ cage from _special_ place in depth of Siberia."

And right as he'd said that, England had strolled into the meeting room with a black briefcase in his right hand and a dark blue blazer draped over his left shoulder. He raised his thick eyebrows real high and gaped at Russia, who gave him a "sweet" smile and wave of the hand in return. America turned to see England standing in the doorway and ran up to him.

"Hey, Arthur!" he exclaimed into his ear. England snapped out of his shock syndrome and yelled back at America, who laughed at him.

"Ivan," England said, "what were you talking about exact..." England looked down and noticed a strange man with pale skin, shiny silvery hair, and vibrant scarlet eyes; he looked pained. "...ly...? Who is that?" Prussia cocked an eyebrow at him and growled in disagreement. How could he not remember him?

"Dude," America answered, "that's Gilbert. Y'know, Prussia?" Britain raised one bushy caterpillar eyebrow and walked over to where Russia sat at the table and the strange man, who went by Prussia, sat at his master's heel. He had left his briefcase in the doorway for anyone else (hopefully France) to trip over and his blazer had slid off his shoulder ages ago.

He reached out towards Prussia's face, but was interrupted by a slap to the palm. He looked up at the culprit, who was none other than Hell's Truly.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Russia asked with a smile.

"I was taking a closer look at your...pet," England replied slowly and gently, as if talking to a child. Russia nodded his approval and England continued what he started.

He took his index finger and lifted Prussia's head so that his face was looking towards the ceiling. Finally,something familiar struck his memory from when he was out at sea as a pirate. This "Prussia" was the annoying cabin boy who had worked for him at first, but quit soon after to become a pirate himself. _A rather lousy pirate,_ England thought. _Had I taught him nothing?_

Prussia whined and his mouth moved behind the cloth. Then, his eyes widened as his memory was struck as well. This was the once-powerful British Empire he used to work for! Facing him now as some weirdly-dressed, sucky Englishman. What happened to him? Where was the man in the large feathered hat and fancy robe-like cloak he once knew? He'd quit his job for this guy to become a great pirate himself. He wanted to destroy him; he had been a dickhead to him and never treated him as an equal like he should have been.

Without taking his eyes off of the silver-haired man, England smiled as he told the proud new owner of Prussia, "Better watch your back, Ivan. He's no good; he'll just quit being your pet and leave you. He's nothing but a lousy cabin boy." He saw Prussia's brows furrow and he smiled even wider. He suddenly remembered what happened between them that one stormy night at sea. He had shown him the _real_ dominance of a pirate, but he still hadn't understood and went off to be his own swashbuckler. What an idiot.

"Uh, Arthur?" America suddenly spoke up. England looked away from Prussia and over his shoulder at America. He straightened up and walked over to where America still stood. He placed a light hand on the small of his back and guided him out of the room.

America gave him a questioning look when England leaned into him and whispered, "I recognize him."

"Who?" asked America, as naïve and innocent as always. "Ivan? We all know him, Artie."

"No, you git! Gilbert! He worked for me once, when I was a pirate."

"Whoa, what...? You were a pirate, Art? Sweet!"

England put his index finger up to America's lips, shushing him. "Yes, you bloody idiot! He was my cabin boy..." He thought back again to the incident that happened between him and Prussia on his ship. He was a drunkard and Prussia was an inexperienced peasant. Not exactly worth the lesson.

"Wow," America said through England's finger, which was pulled back quickly. "So he, like, worked for you?"

"Yes, but he did a lousy job. He was a terrible pirate as well." He almost laughed at the ridiculous display Prussia tried to unveil many, many years ago.

"What did you look like as a pirate? Did you have your own crew? Was the ship huge and cool?! Did you get all the girls, dude?" America wouldn't shut up. And because of England's impatience and short temper, he swat at him and accidentally clocked him on the nose.

"Sorry, America," he reassured his younger ally.

"Ow," America replied. "What happened to the gentle, father figure I used to know?" His blue eyes shone with admiration and some tears swelled up.

England took a step back. "I'm sorry, America. Are you okay?"

"No! I miss you, Arthur. A lot...also my nose hurts. I think you broke it."

"Don't change the subject, you git," England answered, stepping back towards America and kissing his nose.

"OW!"

"You're such a baby, Alfred..." America looked up at England with sad puppy eyes and he couldn't help his next move. He was just too adorable and when he made that face, England would easily give in and do whatever he wanted.

England leaned in and pecked America on the lips. He didn't seem to mind and just rested his head on Britain's shoulder. England pat him on the back softly and secretly adored this new, caring side of him.


	2. Chapter Two

England placed a light hand on the small of America's back and guided him out the door into the hallway, leaving Russia sitting in the meeting room at the table with a red-eyed Prussian crouching at his feet. He rested his chin on his left hand and still held the chain with his right hand. Prussia was being oddly obedient for how outgoing and rambunctious he can be.

Suddenly, he felt a tug on the chain and his violet eyes shifted to where Prussia was trying to break the iron collar he wore around his neck. Again. Russia tugged back on the chain and Prussia shot him a feared glare, but still tried to snap the chain in half. That was when Russia smiled again.

Prussia rolled his eyes. He absolutely hated him. And that damn smile! Everything about that Siberian bastard irked him! But something about the larger nation unleashed butterflies in Prussia's stomach, chilling him to the bone. What was the strange attraction he felt for this man? And why the hell did he obey him?!

Prussia tried his hardest ever to break the iron collar, but it was no use. He was strong, but the collar's grip was stronger. If he strangled too much, he may choke to death. And that wouldn't be good for him, seeing as he had a reputation to keep.

Russia placed a hand on his head and pet his hair. Did he seriously think he was a dog?! Prussia jerked his head away from the country's hand and shot some more red lasers at him. But Russia didn't flinch. He sat perfectly still, almost like a frozen statue.

Suddenly, he decided he'd had enough of this "you were being a bad boy" shit and stood up in front of Russia, who stayed seated and stared up at him. Stared at him with those eyes. Those deep, vivid...beautiful amethyst eyes. Why was it that every time he looked into this guy's eyes, he became instantly mesmerized?

Then, Russia smiled once again. He reached up and brought the cloth down so it hung around his neck like a necklace. "Something wrong?" he asked. Yeah, something was seriously wrong!

"Why am I here?" he demanded in return.

"What do you mean by-?"

"You know damn well _exactly_ what I mean! Why am I here doing whatever you say? Trapped in this-" He shook his head, rattling the chain attached to the iron collar around his neck. "This...thing! I hate it! I hate..." He looked into Russia's eyes and tried hard to finish, "...you."

This was when Russia stood up, towering a foot taller than the albino man. "You don't hate me, Gil," he insisted, touching his pet's arm with his gloved hand, but Prussia shoved him off and took a few steps back until the chain was stretched as far as it would go, which wasn't very far away from the elder country.

"Don't touch me!"

"You were being a naughty boy, my pet. I had to punish you. So you are to sit through the whole meeting with me." He closed his eyes and smiled again. Why did that smile have to be so creepy?! And...attractive?

"Why don't you punish me the way you mentioned before?" Prussia mumbled, but Russia had heard him and suddenly took hold of his waist. Oh, Gott...

"I can if you want me to," Russia replied with an even bigger smile. And suddenly, Prussia couldn't help but lean in to him. His eyes drew him closer. But before he could lightly kiss him, Russia had pulled him by the waist and slammed his lips into his, almost violently. Though he was a bit rough, the man with snowy hair and scarlet eyes didn't mind it. Actually, he really enjoyed it and leaned in. It was difficult to join in more with his hands tied behind his back. And it was hard to crane his neck with an iron collar choking him. But somehow, it made it even hotter.

In fact, the heat in the meeting room they were in presently started to rise dramatically, or at least Prussia's body temperature rose drastically. He struggled slightly, trying to escape from the rope keeping his wrists captive, all while still moving his lips against the larger nation's own.

Russia reached around his pet and undid the ropes that tied his wrists together. As soon as Prussia's hands were free, he wrapped his arms around the elder country's neck and leaned in even more, running a hand through Russia's light blonde hair and tangling his fingers in the loose strands. Something soft and wet was begging entrance into his mouth and he allowed it eagerly. He rubbed his tongue against it and explored the other's mouth as well, battling for dominance. Their breaths mixed together and eventually, he couldn't seem to win.

In the end, Prussia actually didn't need punishment. He was obeying his owner and was being a good boy. So Russia let him off easy, but his pet kept shifting uncomfortably during the whole meeting.

After the death sentence of a boring, extended discussion of politics and stuff, Russia offered to take the iron collar off of Prussia's neck. His pet nodded his head and was released of his capture, but he didn't leave.

"We should go, huh?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll take you home," Russia answered.

"Nein. Uh, I meant...to your house."

"...really?"

"Ja. Besides, we have things to finish." Prussia stepped closer to Russia and gently grabbed the collar of his shirt with one hand. Russia smiled, but it was different. It wasn't the usual sweet kind, but a smirk that had "mischief" written all over it.

They left for Russia's house and Prussia felt his pants suddenly get tighter as he thought of how things would turn out later that day. A flash back to when he was England's cabin boy came to his mind. He shook it to the back of his brain; that life was over. He was someone else's cabin boy now.

Russia flopped to the side and lied beside his pet. Sweat poured down his face and he could taste the saltiness in his mouth. His pet, Prussia, panted beside him, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He was stripped from his uniform before they even made it to the bedroom, and now a sheet covered at least his nether regions. Russia reached over and placed a hand on his pet's stomach. Prussia turned his head so he could face the elder, dominant, _much_-larger-than-he-thought nation. Then, he received a kiss on his forehead.

"Gil," muttered Russia. "Я люблю тебя." Prussia felt a slight shiver go down his spine. He didn't need to know Russian to understand what he'd just said.

"Ditto," he replied to Russia's chest. He gave it a peck, wanting to fall into a deep slumber.

"My beloved pet." Prussia felt his eyelids grow extremely heavy. He began to close his eyes as he heard Russia whisper something that automatically lulled him to sleep.

"Moй любимoe домашнее животное..."

* * *

**Translations**

**Russian:**

**Нет (Nyet) – No**

**Что? (Chto) – What?**

**Я люблю тебя (Ya Lyoo-blyoo Teb-ya) – I love you**

**Moй любимoe домашнее животное (Mo-ih Lyoo-bim-moh-ye doh-mash-nee zhih-voht-noye) – My beloved pet**

**German:**

**Gott (Got) – God**

**Nein (Nine) - No**


End file.
